a letter to my ex

you always were so nervous about cooking, you never would do it. You had such a food schedule. Every evening was regimented, the same thing every day, every week... there was no room for spontaneous experimentation. So when you figured out how to make something new, there was such a fanfare. I remember vividly that bean salad with corn and gherkins. One time I had come over while you were at work. Remember how I did that, I used to do that all the time, catch the train and the bus and walk to your house in the dark, just so that I could be there when you got home. I can still remember how my heart ached when we weren't together, even for a few hours. And you had made me a bean salad and left me little notes all around the house. And you came home from work, smelling of fish, in your work jeans and white polo shirt, and I ran to you in the doorway and wrapped myself around you and breathed you in. That smell, how warm you were after work, your hair stuck to your flushed face. We would stand in the doorway kissing for half an hour.
I cant remember how many times I told you I did not like corn. You still made it for me on my birthday.

letter to my ex: part four

I avoid going to places if I think you will be there.
Because I am so scared to be around you.

Because I am scared of you.

One time I saw someone from behind. She had exactly the same physique as you, she held herself in exactly the same way. the angle of her head, the position of her shoulders, her posture. For a few moments I thought it was you and I felt paralysed with panic. my heart slamming against my ribs.
It was not you.
But the fact that someone's posture can still have such an effect over me is frightening.

I hate that you still dictate where I am physically.

letter to my ex: part three

Remember how when we slept

We always had to have one part of our bodies touching

hand to hip, knee to calf, thigh to thigh

Remember that second summer

And your house baked in the heat

Remember those nights we never slept

Remember lying downstairs on the cool tiles

tangled, sweaty limbs

remember that week when all you ate was apple sauce

remember that week when all you ate were cupcakes

remember that week when all you ate was me

letter to my ex: part two

I remember that look in your eye

whenever I was upset with you.

You knew

all you had to do

was slide your hand up my skirt

and I would capitulate

letter to my ex

Remember that time

you told me that

I broke you

from wanting you so much?

Me wanting you was the only thing we were good at.

It broke me too.